


Taking Initiative

by coffeeandchocolate



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Fluff, Gen, not AU but I imagined more of an age gap between the older X-Men and younger than in the cartoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandchocolate/pseuds/coffeeandchocolate
Summary: When Scott and Jean have to pick up Kitty, Kurt, and Peter at the police station, Kitty wants it made clear that they were the victims.





	Taking Initiative

Whatever anyone else might tell you, Scott Summers wasn’t a worrier.

He wasn’t.

He was the leader of the X-Men and a member of a persecuted species. He planned for every eventuality and every possibility. He had contingency plans for his contingency plans. Who had time to worry? He was paranoid, he could admit that much, and he was certainly not one to let go of any mistake or to go into anything without a strategy for getting out, but he didn’t worry.

All that being said, when he picked up the phone to be greeted with Kitty’s nervous voice imploring, “Please don’t get mad”, he started worrying.

* * *

Jean met him at the base of the stairs. She wiggled his keys at him and reached to grab his hand. “Wanna make them feel really guilty and promise to never do it again?”

“What’s our play, super embarrassing and worried; not mad, just disappointed; or _what the hell were you thinking as soon as we’re out of here, we’re killing you_?”

“Oooh, what about completely unreadable and like any of those are possibilities as soon as they finish telling their story?”

“God, I love you.”

Jean flashed a dazzling smile at him and squeezed his hand tighter. “One of us has to get the younger kids at nine, though. What do you want to do?”

“If we’re not done dealing with Kitty and Kurt by then, you go. I can handle them.”

Jean snorted. “Oh, Scott. You really think they’re more scared of you than of me?”

Scott gave his best _well, duh_ look. Not the easiest feat when his eyes were hidden. It was at times like this when his and Jean’s mental link came in handy. “You’re the least scary person I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” Jean protested. “What about the time I sent all those U-Men running away from the house screaming?”

“Not at all the same,” he said. “They know you’re never going to hurt _them._ Jury’s still out on me.”

Jean bumped his shoulder with her own. “Maybe neither of us are scary. Have we gotten old and boring?”

“No way. I shoot force beams out of my eyes, you move things with your brain and read people’s minds, and we both go out on a regular basis to fight bad guys. That’s gotta be worth a few cool points, right?”

Jean groaned dramatically. “I think the fact you just asked that means we’re decidedly uncool.”

Scott grinned, but it faded quickly. “Come on. The police know they’re mutants, I want them out of there now.”

* * *

“Think Scott will bail me out, too?” Peter asked. “Aunt May’ll kill me if she finds out about this.”

“Hey, why are we worrying about _you_?” Kurt demanded. “Scott’s more likely to commit murder than your aunt!”

Kitty waved a dismissive hand. “Nah. Jean might, but so long as Scott comes alone, I think we’re good.”

Peter made a face. “Really?”

“I love Scott and all, but he’s a _dork,_ ” Kitty said. “He’s not scary. And besides, he hates the Avengers more than anyone. He’s more likely to congratulate us than kill us. So long as we don’t skip out of here and give the anti-mutant lobby more ammo in their ‘mutants are dangerous criminals’ schtick, I think we’ll be okay.”

“He punched Iron Man in the face once,” Kurt reminisced. “It was awesome.”

Kitty laughed. “Remember the time Captain America called him over to complain about mutants existing?”

“Yes!” Kurt nodded enthusiastically, turning to Peter. “Have you heard this one?”

Peter shook his head.

Kurt grinned broadly and extended his arms, leaning in closer to make sure his every word could be heard. “So, you see, Scott agreed to go as a courtesy, about a year or two ago. And some of the younger kids thought he was going to optic blast the good captain out a window.”

“There was a betting pool and everything,” Kitty put in. Kurt spun around and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“Hey!” he protested. “I’m telling this story.”

Kitty mimed zipping her lips shut. Kurt returned his attention to Peter.

“Kitty,” he said, gesturing at her with a dramatic sweep of his arm, “hacked into the security cameras so we could see what _really_ went down. Scott had his unimpressed face on, and told Cap that mutants are under his protection, he won’t allow them to be persecuted for things that aren’t their fault, and the Avengers have no right to be complaining about damage caused by anyone else.”

Peter frowned. He wasn’t all that sure what angle they were going for here. They were sending him some mixed messages. “So…is your point that he’s scary or that he’s not?”

“Pay attention, Peter!” Kitty exclaimed. “Not. Duh. Maybe if you’re, like, a supervillain, or an Avenger, but none of us are either.”

Kurt’s story had sounded pretty scary to Peter. Cyclops was that unafraid of the Avengers?

Not that Peter had ever been afraid of the Avengers himself. It was kind of hard to muster up any amount of deference for a team full of trained killers that never seemed to manage to pull themselves together enough to stop fighting each other. So…

Kitty interrupted his train of thought by shifting impatiently. “What is taking him so long?”

She phased her head through the cell door to get a better look, then pulled it back almost immediately. When she turned back to Peter and Kurt, her face was white. “Forget everything we just said. He’s pissed.”

“He is?”

Kitty nodded, ponytail bouncing, eyes wide. “He’s got the face on.”

“The face?” Peter echoed. Now Kurt was looking nervous.

“The face,” he confirmed. “He looks totally relaxed –”

“Completely calm,” Kitty added.

“Not about to blow up at all –”

“And then he kicks the ass of whoever or whatever put that look on his face,” Kurt finished. “This was the way he looked before punching Iron Man.”

“The general rule is to run,” Kitty said. “When you see his face do that thing. But I don’t that’s so much an option here unless we want to be in _way_ more trouble.”

Peter looked up at the ceiling and asked it, “Didn’t she just say he’d be fine with it?”

“Is Jean here?” Kurt asked. Kitty nodded.

“She’s talking to the desk clerk. Scott’s waiting by the door.”

Kurt looked as though he was five seconds from skipping out on them. Kitty clamped her hand around his wrist.

“Don’t be a coward,” she said through gritted teeth. “Or better yet, take me with you.”

“I think that might make Scott even more angry,” Kurt pointed out.

“Are we going to get murdered by your terrifying brother?” Peter hissed. “And are you planning on _leaving me_ here?!”

“No, shut up and let me handle it,” Kitty ground out. “Scott’s harmless.”

“Harmless?!”

His voice cracked very embarrassingly on that last syllable.

Kitty rolled her eyes. “You spend your free time snarking at criminals, and you’re afraid of Scott?”

“I’ve never met a criminal that could _literally_ kill me with a look –”

He cut himself off at the sight of an officer walking towards them. Jean Grey was a half step behind him, smile so pleasant Peter could almost forget that she was Marvel Girl, one of the most powerful telepaths on the planet, who could probably hear everything he was thinking about who she was and what she could do to him.

The officer pulled open the cell door. “You three are free to go.”

Jean smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you so much, sir.”

The officer nodded. Jean kept the smile on her face until the second he turned his back, at which point she turned her attention to Kitty, Scott, and Peter.

“You three, march,” she ordered. They obeyed.

They didn’t have to go far. Scott was waiting for them just a few steps out the door. One would think it would be hard to tell when a man wearing opaque glasses was staring at you, unamused. It wasn’t. Peter looked down at his shoes. Neither Scott nor Jean said anything.

When he risked a look up, Cyclops and Marvel Girl were still looking decidedly unimpressed. They both had their arms folded across their chests. Marvel Girl started tapping her foot. Cyclops raised an eyebrow so high Peter could see it above his glasses. He immediately fixed his gaze back on the ground.

Oh, God, Cyclops and Marvel Girl probably weren’t going to kill Kurt and Kitty, because they were family and fellow mutants and X-Men, but Peter didn’t have any of that going for him! He had pissed off _Scott Summers_ , the tactical genius, the badass, fearless leader of the X-Men and de facto commander of all mutantkind that shot force beams out of his eyes and _Jean Grey_ , the telekinetic telepath second-in-command who could read Peter’s thoughts and kill him with her brain.

He was so going to die. Aunt May was going to miss him. He’d finally mustered the courage to ask out MJ, and he was going to miss their date. J Jonah Jameson was going to slander his character and he wasn’t even going to be there to defend himself.

Jean interrupted his inner monologue. “Which one of you idiots thought any of this was a good idea?”

In what might have been an act of either insane bravery or remarkable stupidity, Kitty stepped forward, gesturing dramatically with her arms. “Jean, Scott, you see, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. We’re the victims here!”

“The victims,” Scott repeated.

“Yes! You should be proud of us, I thought you were all for advocacy for mutant rights and students taking initiative.”

“We made a list! Of all the reasons the Avengers suck! You love lists and hate the Avengers! You should love this!” Kurt chimed in in apparent solidarity.

Scott nodded at Peter. “So what’s he doing here?”

Jean reached up to squeeze Scott’s shoulder with one hand and pinch the bridge of her nose with the other. “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

“It all started when Kurt got us lost,” Kitty said. “We were supposed to be going to this outdoor concert, right? Totally minding our own business. But we wound up at an Avengers press conference instead. And naturally, we couldn’t let this propaganda go unquestioned.”

“Naturally,” Scott repeated.

“So I started shouting back at them and countering their points, but I couldn’t quite make myself heard.”

“Imagine that,” Scott said.

“So Peter –”

Peter made a small noise that he refused to call a squeak and tried his best to blend into the wall.

“So Peter,” Kitty repeated, shooting him a glare, “helped me out. He picked me up and got me closer – hey, I didn’t even phase through the crowd, that demonstrated a lot of restraint – so people could see me shouting and know to listen.”

“Helpful,” Scott deadpanned.

“That’s me,” Peter chimed in, finding his voice. “Mr. Helpful. Just don’t ask me to help you move.”

What was wrong with him? Was he crazy? Super strength and ability to climb walls or not, Cyclops and Marvel Girl could and probably would kick his ass. All Scott had to do was open his eyes, and it would be bye-bye, Peter, and that was assuming he didn’t want to kill him slowly and painfully instead. Marvel Girl could make forget his name, dress in a pink tutu, and tap dance his way through Brooklyn, _then_ throw him under a train, all without ever stepping near him. Would she make him do that while he was in his Spider-Man suit?

He was getting off track again.

“The only _problem_ was that when we started heckling, some security guy – and what kind of cowards are those losers anyway? What do they need security for? Some security guy decided we’d gotten too close, so he tried to grab me. I phased us through him, and the cops took that as an excuse to arrest us.”

Kurt waved. “And I went with them. Because solidarity.”

“So, you see,” Kitty finished, “we’re not delinquents at all. We were political prisoners.”

Scott didn’t visibly react. Peter didn’t think he bought it.

“And the manifesto?” Jean prompted.

“Oh, yeah!” Kitty said. “Well, naturally, we couldn’t just go in there without a plan. So we took some time to remember every complaint Scott’s ever had about them, typed them up, and ducked into a FedEx to print off five hundred copies. We handed them out to passerby and used it as a guideline for what to chant.”

Scott and Jean exchanged a look. Kitty clearly noticed, because she hastened to add, “Again, this proves we listen to all your anti-Avengers, anti-government rants! Really, this reflects well on us. Or maybe on you! All our points were originally yours. You should be very proud.”

Peter looked at Scott again and froze.

All semblance of emotion had left Scott’s face. He hadn’t shifted his stance at all, but Peter suddenly felt about two inches tall. If this was how _Peter_ felt with that look fixed on a _group_ he was included in, how must anyone that had ever hurt a mutant in front of Cyclops feel?

Jean was his only hope.

Sure, she wasn’t looking too happy herself, and sure, she could take his brain apart or fling him through the nearest window with a thought, but her expression didn’t look nearly as cold as Scott’s right then.

Peter’s hopes were dashed when she leaned up to press a kiss to Scott’s cheek. “You’ve got this, then, hon?”

“Yes,” Scott answered, giving nothing away. “Pick up the kids, I’ll see you at home.”

Scott Summers _had_ to be the only man alive that could make that sentence sound threatening.

Scott didn’t say anything more as Jean walked away. Peter could only assume he was intentionally letting them stew. It was working. Kitty broke first.

“Okay!” she burst out. “Will you just say something already?!”

“Katherine Pryde,” Scott grated. “I risked life and limb to teach you how to drive. I let you behind the controls of the Blackbird. And you respond by breaking my one rule?”

Kitty choked. “ _One_?”

Scott ignored her. “Tell me, anyone, what is the policy we have about the Avengers?”

“If any member of the X-Men or student at the Xavier Institute associates with the Avengers, it better be because someone is dead or dying,” Kitty and Kurt recited in unison, as if it were something they were very used to saying.

“We weren’t _associating_ with the Avengers, we were protesting them,” Kurt said. Scott cleared his throat and nodded at Peter.

“I ask again – so, what’s he doing here?”

“Hey, no worries, I’m not an Avenger,” Peter offered. “I mean, they offered. But they seem to spend most of their time fighting each other. I figured if I joined them instead of working alone, I’d never get anything done.”

Scott rubbed at his forehead. “Is it any wonder I get migraines?”

He sighed deeply. “I don’t constantly talk about why we need to keep our heads down for fun, you know! Believe it or not, I don’t love the sound of my own voice.”

Scott’s voice had quietened. A worried frown cut through the blankness of his face.

“Scott…” Kitty said. Peter glanced at her. This had suddenly become serious. “We’re okay. I promise.”

“Kitty…we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. I don’t – I don’t tell you to keep a low profile because I’m trying to control you. I just…”

“We _know,_ Scott,” Kitty assured him. “We get it. But we can’t. Not any more than you can.”

“We’re X-Men,” Kurt added. “And even if we weren’t, we’d still be mutants.”

“Protecting those that can’t protect themselves,” Kitty said, and the way she looked into Scott’s glasses made Peter suspect that she wasn’t guessing and had, in fact, mastered the art of catching his eye behind the ruby quartz.

Scott let out a deep breath. That deep V between his eyebrows eased. “You’re right.”

Kitty blinked. Kurt cocked his head and checked, “We’re…right?”

Scott nodded. “Yes.”

Kurt and Kitty exchanged a look before returning their attention to Scott.

“So…” Kitty said. “What now?”

“You and Kurt can go home. I’ll meet you there. Just need to have a quick word with Peter first.”

Kitty just stared at him, eyes wide. And even though the Kitty Pryde Peter knew wasn’t one for apologizing for doing something she believed in, instead preferring to commit to every decision she made, good and bad alike, she said, “I’m sorry, Scott.”

“No, don’t be,” Scott said. He flashed a brief, bright smile. “I’m not…I’m not mad. You did good. You get to choose what we order for dinner.”

Kitty’s earlier words echoed in Peter’s head: _He’s more likely to congratulate us than kill us._

She’d been right. Peter could see in her face that she was remembering the same thing he was, but there was no trace of smugness there, no _I-told-you-so_ triumphant glance in his direction. No, she looked more on the side of guilty.

She lunged forward and clamped her arms around Scott in a tight hug. He stiffened in her arms, but slowly raised a hand to rest against her back.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.”

* * *

Scott bought Peter a coffee from the cart down the street from the police station. Peter sipped at it. When Scott didn’t say anything, he did.

“I swear, I’m not an Avenger,” he said. Scott’s mouth quirked.

“I know,” he assured him. “That’s not really my concern.”

“Then what is?”

Scott shoved his hands in his pockets. He worked his jaw, seemingly struggling with finding an answer.

“Kitty and Kurt,” he said at last. “They’re mutants. And I know you might think you know what that means because you have powers, too, but you can’t…”

He broke off. When he tried again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “When it comes to mutates, people feel bad for them. Like it’s something that happened to them. When it comes to mutants, people feel like we’re something that happened to the world. Whatever the Avengers would say, they would rather we just…disappeared.”

Peter swallowed hard.

Scott’s expression shifted slightly. The line of his jaw hadn’t softened, exactly, but now he was looking at Peter thoughtfully. “What do you think, Peter?”

“I think –”

For an instant, his voice failed him. He wished he could make a quip, a joke, anything to lighten the mood, but no. This wasn’t that.

“I think,” he repeated, “that you can count on me.”

* * *

For reasons Peter wasn’t entirely sure of, he followed Scott to the train station. Instead of actually boarding a train, Scott sat down on a bench, staring at every stranger walking past for more than an hour. To Peter’s surprise, Jean came to meet him, sitting down next to him.

“Hey,” Scott said. “I thought we were going to meet at home?”

Instead of answering, Jean took Scott’s hands. “We can’t protect them from everything.”

Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men, the face of the team whose symbol mutants everywhere rallied under, the man often hailed as the goddamned mutant Messiah, looked stricken. “I just…”

“I know.” Jean’s voice was quiet and very gentle, barely audible, her face filled with compassion. “You want to keep them safe.”

She brought their joined hands to her heart. Tucked her chin in. “But you can’t. Not when the danger is the entire outside world. We have a choice between their safety and their freedom. And if we choose the former…”

Scott sighed, but finished her sentence. “And if we choose the former, then there’s no point in anything we do.”

Jean managed a laugh. “Hey, if it helps…you probably made them feel guilty enough to never do it again.”

“Oh, no,” Scott said. He smiled, faint but real. “They definitely will.”

“You proud of them?”

“Yeah,” Scott admitted. “Yeah, I am.”

Jean dropped his hands and cuddled into his side. “Me, too.”

It wasn’t all that late. Peter could go for a quick patrol. But no. Somehow, Scott and Jean, sitting together in a train station, were a reminder – Aunt May would be waiting for him. It was time he went home.

Peter smiled and walked out the door.


End file.
